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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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La grande bouffe

I helped Terence with 4 packets today. By packets, I mean letters, cvs, and sample pages. Itís exhausting. I was all hot to gesso some paper so that I could start painting, but my philanthropic side got the better of me.

Then in another move of great magnanimity, I decided to help the MPLH with her acting resume. If youíd seen how hideous it was, you too would have sucked it up and volunteered your design services. I had to step in in the name of good design. I was acting out of civic duty, believe me. And actually, since beginning this little revamp project for her, sheís been a peach. It has nothing to do with me, I know; she broke up with some guy, and has since been on cloud nine.

I have also partnered up with a friend of mine who is writing and designing a book for a giant New York publisher. He just got his eyes PRK-ed (kinda like Lasik but different) and is in adjustment mode. In a week or so, his blurry vision should normalize and he should be able to see perfectly without glasses. The most incredible part about the surgery (to me, anyway) is that they numb your eyes, tape back your eyelashes Clockwork Orange style, and point a laser at each eye for about 2.5 minutes. Then, in two weeks, you can see 20/20. Crazy. Thatís it. He was telling me that when the doctor was finished after about 5 minutes, he and the nurses left the room and that was that. So much for health CARE.

What else is going on? I demonstrated some silly handstand maneuver in yoga yesterday, and my arms crumbled beneath me and I fell sideways onto the teacher. A lesson in humility if there ever was one. Every time you think youíre becoming a badass, something or someone puts you in your place.

I watched the entire 4th season of Sex and The City on Sunday night. What a nice junk food treat. Harriet borrowed the tapes from someone at work. We are almost caught up! All we need to do now is locate the 6 bonus episodes, and a few taped episodes of the current season, and weíll be up to date. One day, when I have money, I just might splurge on cable and HBO. For now, itís strictly network television. I know I am going to sound incredibly passť, but I canít believe that Carrie accepts Aidanís marriage proposal. He is such a lunkhead!

Iíve discovered how to make pasta more interesting. When I was vegan, I ate tons of pasta and pretty much burned myself out. Since going over to the meat-eating dark side, I have not really thought about pasta until today when I realized that I was hungry for lunch and there was nothing in the house but some fusilli. So, hereís what I did. I boiled the noodles until they were just a bit on the undercooked side (not quite al dente.) Then I layered them in a baking dish with red sauce, fresh basil, creme fraiche and cheese. The creme fraiche might seem superfluous but it makes all the difference in the world. Frankly, I donít know how the non-French cook without it. I am so excited that Trader Joeís carries it. Creme fraiche makes everything it touches delicious, velvety, creamy and dreamy. Obviously I had more in the house than just the fusilli; sometimes it takes a couple of minutes to assess what kind of meal you can cobble together from the odds and ends in your kitchen. Anyway, I popped the dish into the oven until it started to bubble, and voila!

(parenthetical thing on the non-French cooks: how can Americans not cook with what the French call ďlardĒ? Lots of folks compare it to bacon, but itís more like prosciutto and it is insanely yummy.)

I have Thierry to thank for my cooking magic. When I lived with him, he would go through the cabinets and fridge and somehow, miraculously, create a jaw-dropping yummy meal from thin air. Of course, the other thing that he would do that I have not copied is dump a bunch of things in a bowl and call it cereal. He did this very late at night, when he was working on a deadline. I once saw him pour cereal dust from two different boxes into a bowl, cover it with half a brown banana, some old yoghurt, a little milk, chocolate syrup and granulated sugar. Maybe it doesnít sound that bad, but in technicolor, it looked supergross and gnarly.

All this food talkís got me hungry. Time for dinner.

7:14 p.m. - 2002-08-20

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